The woman - Sarah - looked at it critically. 'Didn't come out that well..._Cwej_...'

'Not me. Holo-camera's on the blink again...'

'Ahem.'

'...Should have had that thirty thousand year service, but do you _listen_? *Noooo.....*'

'*Ahem.*' Zard repeated.

The woman looked up. 'Sorry about this...'

'Yes... Might I know who you are?' Zard said patiently.

The man slapped his forehead. 'Oh, that's _right_, personal introductions... I'm Chris Cwej, and the lady over there's my wife, Sarah. Lucky we came along when we did...' he added. 'Your ship was about to fall apart... Honestly, how you ever got by without adamantinum I don't know... Luckily, your ship's computer was able to give us directions, and it _was_ on our way... Y'know, she's in good shape for an antique, you could get one well-smart price for her...'

He trailed off as Zard continued *looking* at him.

'Of course, keeping her around for sentimental value's good too...' Chris hastily added.

'Cwej?'

'Yeah, Sarah?... Oh, sorry.'

Sarah shook her head. 'Grief... All right. The simple explanation is... "We're from the 57th century, and we were on our way to a holiday in the 20th century - Cwej has family there. Why we stay with them I honestly don't know... - and we'll be able to drop you off in the 21st century on our way." That okay?'

'Someone out here wants to know if you're the Dragon's Bride.' The man's voice again.

'What? Lemme see...'

Teenage girl looks out from behind door. 'Yes...?'

'Are you the Dragon's Bride?'

'Not that I've noticed, no...'

Slumping of shoulders. 'Oh _poot_. Come on, Linx...'

The teenage girl steps out from the door. 'Um... who're you looking for again?'

Start the story. 'The Bride of the Dragon. A maiden betrothed to the great Dragon who oversees our land.

'A few... moon-cycles?... back, the latest one disappeared. We were able to trace her to this region, but no further. So we were sent to bring her back.'

The teenage girl nods. 'Right... And how're you gonna recognise her?'

'She will be the one who says "yes" when we ask her if she is the Dragon's Bride.'

The teenage girl blinks. 'Sorry? Is she under a compulsion to tell the truth or something?'

'The ...truth?' Stare at the girl. 'I do not understand. Why speak something other than that which is? The only magic which lies upon her is the one that requires that, should she ever lie with _anyone_ else, they shall be devoured within the moon-cycle by the great Dragon.'

The girl says 'Ah.' There's not much else she _can_ say. 'So... what do you get in return?'

Stare at the girl again. 'Return? The Dragon simply asks that we return his bride... otherwise he will destroy our land. Again.'

'Uh-huh...' the girl says. 'And she looks like you, right? Couldn't be hard to miss...'

Sniff. 'Unfortunately not. This time, the honour fell on one of those frivolous elves, rather than one of the most noble and honourable Oni...' Undercurrent of 'How could anyone, even the most noble Dragon himself, choose one of *them*?'

'Did you say... _elf_? Pointy ears, slitted eyes, that kinda thing?'

'You have seen her?' Excitement.

'Umm...'

---

'Are _you_ the Dragon's Bride?'

Angel eeped.

Then she turned around and said 'I don't have a _clue_ what you're... talking...'

Two Oni were standing behind her. Short, squat, heads like... what were those things again? Potatoes, that was it. And standing behind _them_...

Was a deeply embarrassed Charlotte Pollard.

Who blushed, and said 'Sorry...'

'I'll give you sorry...' Angel muttered. She turned her brightest smile on the two Oni. '_So_ sorry to disappoint these kind gentlemen, but no, I'm not.'

'You have pointed ears and slitted eyes,' one of them pointed out. 'Are you not an elf?'

'Sorry. Just cosmetic surgery...' Angel explained.

The two Oni looked blank. Which wasn't too hard for an Oni, Angel reflected. It was widely said (but not to their faces) that an Oni could lose a riddle contest with a stone. If the stone was having an off-day.

Vislor turned his hardest gaze on Angel. 'Is there something you want to tell me... _dear_?'

'Um... Honey? I'd like you to meet my sister Sammy...' Angel gestured in her 'twin's general direction. Carefully. Not having anything to do with the crossbow Sammy was pointing at them. '...and two old friends from the old country...' She indicated the Oni.

'What is the "old country"?' one of them said.

Charlotte slapped a hand over his mouth. 'Sorry. New to the language. You know the sort of thing...'

'You know, you never _did_ tell me where your family came from...' Vislor said.

Oh crap. Ohcrapohcrapohcrap...

Which was when a spaceship crashed on the school grounds.

Purely to break the tension, naturally.

---

Elsewhere:

The girl was asleep in his bed.

Fitz wasn't.

He'd prepared a 'bed' on the chair. Wasn't comfortable, but he'd slept on less comfortable things in his time...

But-

(the burning, screamning pain as the power filled his bones)

(the girl's screaming as the power struck)

(the hollow emptiness as the power faded)

(the guilt rushing in)

Another crime to add to his list. He'd panicked, thought she'd been one of _them_, had lashed out...

...and hurt her.

Hurt. Her.

Hurt a girl, barely a toddler who'd wanted...

He frowned. What had she wanted?

What _was_ she?

_Her_ power sliced into his mind. It screamed, it tore, it *twisted* at space...

...and to him, who lived _in_ space, worked it, perpetually _aware_ of it...

...it _burned_, _ate_ at him...

Oh, he _knew_ why he'd lashed out.

But he didn't feel any better for the knowing.

He'd found her mother's phone number in Laura's coat pocket, told her her daughter was staying at a friend's house, and as said friend's father, he just wanted to make sure...

He'd soothed, he'd apologised, he'd told her he'd let Laura know her mum was _worried_ about her, that going out alone was _dangerous_ for a girl her age, that he'd bring her back first thing in the morning...

Telling her mother that Laura was being looked after by one of the most famous idol stars in the world was, he considered, _not_ an intelligent move. On anyone's part.

He stepped onto the balcony and looked over the city, not seeing it.

Felt the burning guilt sink into his psyche, well-worn defences accepting it, storing it away, the guilt slowly fading...but still there, still waiting.

Waiting to be remembered.

He bowed his head.

A flash of silver at the edge of vision.

He looked up.

There was nothing there.

His senses went on alert. No. Not that. Not again...

Maybe. Maybe...

Again. Almost faster than he could see. A flash of silver across the night.

Nyssaias leaned forward. 'So... just when were you planning to kill me?'

Fade shrugged. 'Oh, there'd be friendly attempts during the voyage, but you'd slowly get to trust me as I saved your lives... and then, after the big job that would see us reviled throughout the galaxy by the forces of law and order, and hailed as heroes by the audience at home, I would, reluctantly, be forced to decide between my contract and my friendship, which would leave one or the other of us dead.'